Chapter 13
I was still sitting by Mason's leg when morning rolled around several hours later. His fever continued to blaze out of control, and his sleep was fitful as he woke several times only to fall back to sleep almost instantly.
The rain continued to fall and I wanted to scream in frustration. I had no doubts that we'd eventually be rescued, but I was beginning to doubt that it would come in time. Mason's health was on a rapid downward spiral.
"Beach bunny," Mason said weakly, lifting his head slightly.
I moved from my perch by his leg and moved up by his head. Smoothing a hand across his forehead, I was dismayed his temperature seemed even higher.
"My leg," he said, more of a statement than a question.
I nodded. "It's infected and you're burning up with fever."
"I know," he said, sighing heavily.
"Did you know last night?" I asked.
"I've known for a while," he admitted.
"Why didn't you say anything?" I demanded.
"Because, it wouldn't have done any good to worry you unnecessarily. I was hoping this goddamn rain would stop before it escalated this bad."
"I need to get help," I said after a moment of silence.
"You'd get lost. You don't know these mountains," he said, dismissing my idea.
"Well, you do, and surely someone of your expertise can help out a novice like me," I said sarcastically before I could stop myself. I felt like a complete ass for giving him a hard time when he was so sick, but we had to do something.
He sighed, closing his eyes. "Your best bet would be to follow the mountain down. If rescue missions have been detached, they'll work a grid up the mountain, so you're more likely to run into search crews that way. The issue will be remembering how to get back up here to show them where I am."
His words took some of the steam out of my sails and I sank back on my heels. He was right. I was notorious for getting lost back home. So much so that my mom often told me I would give "absent-minded professors" a run for their money. I would defend myself, but she had a point. My mind often wandered when I was taking in the colors around me, fantasying about how I could re-create them on paper. This trait usually left me driving past destinations, making wrong turns and more often than not, winding up somewhere entirely different than I originally planned. This character flaw had never had any real repercussions since my mom bought me the most state-of-the-art GPS on the market. Now though, my terrible sense of direction could mean life or death.
"Here, you need to take these," I said, holding out the four precious Advil pills I had unwrapped earlier for when he was awake.
"We should save those," he protested.
"For what?" I scoffed. "Seriously, you're not thinking we should save them for me, I hope. For someone so smart, you sure can be a dumbass," I said, handing him the water bottle.
He looked at me through hooded eyes, obviously contemplating arguing, but either lacked the will or energy to do so.
I watched as he swallowed the pills and then drifted back into a fever-induced sleep. While he slept, I began to concoct a plan to save us both. I left our shelter briefly to retrieve the raincoat I had anchored to the roof. Dragging the soaking wet raincoat into the cave behind me, I set to work, tearing it up.
Several hours later, both raincoats were sitting in front of me in shreds. My hands were raw and chapped from tearing the material with my bare hands. I had used a sharp rock to help start my tears, but the rest came from my hands that now screamed in agony. My broken finger was throbbing so badly I was convinced a mini band was rocking inside it.
"Kimberly, what are you doing?" Mason asked me, turning his head to look at me.
Startled, I looked over at him. "How are you feeling?" I asked, reaching up a hand to smooth back his hair so I could feel his forehead.
The skin beneath my hand still radiated and I cringed that the Advil I had shoved down him hadn't done a whole lot of good.
"Don't worry, beach bunny, I'm fine," he lied with glazed-over eyes.
He let out a shuddering shiver and I realized the fever had given him the chills. I shrugged out of my jacket, ignoring his protests and draped it over him.
"Look, if I get cold, all I have to do is lie next to you. Your body heat is enough to warm up the whole cave."
"Are you saying I'm steaming hot?" he teased, chuckling slightly as I raised my eyebrows. "I'm kidding, but you should put your jacket back on, I'm fine," he repeated.
"Right, and I'm a graceful ballerina," I said sarcastically.
"You didn't answer my question," he said weakly.
"I'm getting things ready so I can save your sorry ass," I teased, trying to lighten the mood.
"With a wad of raincoat?" he asked puzzled.
"No, Mr. Negative, with these," I said, holding up several of the strips of raincoat I had torn.
"You're going to try to fly away with those," he guessed.
"No," I said, smiling at him this time. "I'm going to use them to mark the path I take," I added triumphantly.
"I don't think so," he said, all joking gone.
"Um, last time I checked, you weren't the boss of me. You're burning up with fever, can't move and your leg looks like it belongs in some horror movie."
"Yeah, well, you sound like a frog, you have a cough that would rival a sixty-year-old chain-smoker, and you just happened to destroy your only means of keeping yourself dry," he said with more energy than he had shown in the last twenty-four hours.
"Well, the rain is obviously not going to stop, and some stupid cold isn't going to dictate your health," I said, fighting sudden tears. "I'm sick of this whole situation. I miss sleeping in a bed, having cooked meals, hell, I even miss having a bathroom, but most of all, I'm scared you're going to die of some stupid infection. I just want to go home," I added, all fight going out of me as I laid my head on his chest.
"I know, beach bunny, I know," he said, rubbing my head.
"I have to go," I said in a muffled voice.
"I know," he said.
"I'll leave in the morning and I'll bring help back to you," I promise.
He didn't answer as he continued to rub my back. Eventually, he fell back to sleep, but I continued to lie on his chest. His heartbeat beneath my ear was reassuring. I was scared to death to leave him, but I knew it was our only chance. It had only been two days since our accident, but it felt like a lifetime.
I must have dozed for a while since Mason's touch startled me. Glancing out the mouth of the cave, I could see by the faint light that it was late afternoon. My throat felt like razor blades were playing a sick game with my tonsils. I took a small sip of water that only intensified the pain.
"Here," I said, helping Mason to take a drink before I handed him the last dose of Advil we had left, but he refused to take them.
"You should take those in the morning," he argued. "They're not doing me any good. It's like using a teaspoon to bail out a flooded boat, but they can make a world of difference tomorrow morning for you."
I wanted to argue with him, but I knew his logic was sound. Even if they took the edge off my aches and pains for a little while, it would be better than nothing. I slid the pills back into the torn package so they wouldn't get lost and picked up the empty backpack. I placed the bundle of raincoat strips into the pack.